


12 p.m.

by Traviosita9124



Series: Hour by Hour [22]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, High School AU, secret dating au, teenagers au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 11:40:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11184360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traviosita9124/pseuds/Traviosita9124
Summary: Fitz froze in the doorway, his eyes narrowing to slits as he focused on the tutoring tables that were directly across from him. There was a book bag and several binders scattered over his table, the one he’d been using to tutor since his freshman biology teacher had strong-armed him into it. What was worse, he recognized the bag and supplies. Was nothing sacred?





	12 p.m.

Fitz froze in the doorway, his eyes narrowing to slits as he focused on the tutoring tables that were directly across from him. There was a book bag and several binders scattered over  _ his  _ table, the one he’d been using to tutor since his freshman biology teacher had strong-armed him into it. What was worse, he recognized the bag and supplies. Was  _ nothing  _ sacred?

 

He stood in the doorway for a moment, glowering as he considered his options. His first impulse was to run. He got his share of Jemma Simmons during chemistry, after all; there was no need to see even more of her during tutoring hours. On the other hand, it was his table. Why should he be the one to move?

 

Decided, Fitz strode over to his seat and pushed Jemma’s binders to one half of the table and setting up shop. He was hunkered down with his textbook open to review the day’s lecture when he heard Jemma return. He braced himself, expecting a tirade from her, but it never came. Instead she stood there, eyes on him and sighed before taking the seat at the opposite end - and side - of the table from him. 

 

Fitz glanced toward her as she settled, pleased that he’d annoyed her, and got back to work. 

 

~*~

 

Fitz clenched his jaw and tapped his pen more firmly against the table in a desperate bid to drown out what Jemma was trying to pass off as tutoring across from him. He spared a glance over to where Jemma was practically perched in Milton’s lap as she explained his maths homework. 

 

“And so once you carry that, you see that your answer is 91.”

 

She grinned up at the other boy as she punctuated her statement with a definitive tap of her pencil and finally sat back into her own seat. It was unnerving, really, that she had the gall to do that in the  _ library  _ of all places. 

 

“Tha’s wrong,” he muttered without looking directly at the pair, but certainly loud enough to be heard. 

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“You’re wrong. Tha’ answer is wrong.”

 

He looked up and locked eyes with her, ignoring Milton completely since someone who needed help with Algebra II clearly was not worth Fitz’ time. There was a hint of defiance in Jemma’s gaze, and Fitz found himself suddenly eager to stoke it into something more, library rules be damned. 

 

“My calculations are impeccable,” Jemma countered, a single brow arched, “but I’ll hear you out. Where did I go wrong?”

 

“Y’ forgot t’ carry the 3. Two steps ago. Go on an’ check it.”

 

Jemma slid Milton’s notebook in front of her and perused the page, mouth set in a firm line as she checked her sums. Fitz sat back, arms crossed before him and a smirk waiting for when Jemma looked up and admitted she was wrong, but it never came. Instead, he deflated at Jemma’s own mouth curled upward as she spun the notebook toward him. 

 

“You mean that 3 there,  _ Leo _ ? Meaning my answer was…”

 

“...righ’,” Fitz grumbled, passing the notebook back to Milton and doing his best to not pout as his classmate gathered his things to leave. 

 

“Thanks, Jemma. I owe you one.”

 

“Bye, Milton.”

 

Jemma gave a little wiggle of her fingertips and watched him go, lower lip caught between her teeth. That was too much, and Fitz scoffed and rolled his eyes as he went back to his own work. There was a beat of silence in which he though he might actually manage to do that before Jemma broke back in. 

 

“Oh, what now, Fitz? What could I have possibly done to offend you so?”

 

“Oh, it’s no’ me y’ have t’ worry about, bu’ I imagine your boyfriend migh’ take exception t’ you flirtin’ with Milton over there.”

 

Jemma rolled her eyes prettily - how could she even make that attractive - and scoffed as she pulled herself closer to the table. 

 

“One, who I tutor is no one’s business other than the moderator’s. Two, I was not flirting. And three, if I were flirting with someone, how is that any of your business?” She stared at him, daring him to answer her questions. Knowing there was no good way to do that Fitz held his tongue. “That’s exactly what I thought. Really, you’re just upset you weren’t right. You don’t always have to be a know-it-all jerk, you know.”

 

“Wai’ a minute, I bloody well am no’ a know-it-all-”

 

“Fitz, please, you always have to answer-”

 

“-an’ it takes one t’ know one-”

 

“-and have the last word.”

 

“-Simmons.”

 

“See what I mean?”

 

Fitz didn’t much care for the look she was giving him. Instead of the smugness he was expecting, it was somehow sad, as though he’d let her down in some unfathomable way, and once he realized she didn’t want to fight with him, the spirit went out of Fitz, too. 

 

“Sorry,” he murmured, voice so low even Fitz couldn’t really make out the words. 

 

“What was that?”

 

“‘M sorry.” Jemma looked at him expectantly, as though she wasn’t sure what he was driving at, forcing him to add, “For tryin’ to show y’ up just now.”

 

Jemma nodded in understanding.

 

“It’s okay, Fitz. I haven’t been the best behaved, either. Do you think…”

 

“D’ I think wha’?”

 

“Well, do you think that maybe we can at least try to be civil? Enough of the cold shoulder and one upmanship. Whoever ends up top in the class earns it, fair and square, and it’s a lot less of a struggle in the process. Deal?”

 

She held her hand out to him over the table and looked at him, hazel eyes wide and hopeful. Against his meaner urges, Fitz found his fingers folding around hers. Her palm was incredibly soft, and he lightened his grip accordingly as he shook her hand. 

 

“Deal, Jemma. Bes’ behavior from now on.”

 

He watched as she nibbled her lower lip again, the light in her eyes far more enticing than it’d been when he was trying to stir her into snapping at him, and Fitz found himself wondering if he hadn’t just gotten himself into a heap more trouble. 

 

 


End file.
